


Greetings from sunny California!

by orphan_account



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-16
Updated: 2012-03-16
Packaged: 2017-11-02 00:32:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/363050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock had a bad feeling about it ever since John showed up, smiling and waving plane tickets in his face. </p><p>"We're going on a vacation!" John announced.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Greetings from sunny California!

The sun was ridiculously bright. The water the wrong shade of color. All in all, it was something Sherlock loathed.

“Come on!” John grabbed his arm and with a mighty effort managed to stir his flatmate into action. They both knew John was pushing his luck with this, but John was refusing to acknowledge it and Sherlock to busy trapped in a world of hate and self-pity to care. The beach. Of all places, John brought Sherlock to _the beach_. He’d had a bad feeling about it ever since John had burst into the flat, an unusually bright smile on his face and two blue-and-white plane tickets clutched in his hand.

“We’re going on a vacation!” He’d waved the tickets in Sherlock’s face and then tucked them into his jacket pocket, settling into a chair with a satisfied grunt. It took all his self-control not to scowl at John and state what should have been perfectly obvious since they’d met. Vacations don’t exist in Sherlock’s world. He’d already tried to explain to John that the things that weren’t important were deleted. And vacations were as far from important as the Earth going around the sun or Anderson’s birthday.

But one hell of a plane ride later and they were both in California. The sun was really bothering Sherlock, he was worried it was affecting his mind. So far all he’d been able to process since arriving was that Americans had ridiculous accents.

And now John was expecting him to... what? Swim? It was all he could do not to laugh aloud at the thought. But sure enough, they were walking down the beach, John holding some kind of brochure up to his face to shield his eyes from the sun and Sherlock’s mind working as furiously as ever, trying to take in everything he could. His eyes kept darting from the Best Western hotels on the street to the hordes of sun-bathers to John, who looked happier with himself than he’d had in a long time. That was part of the reason Sherlock hadn’t made too big a protest about going on a vacation. John had been down lately… so down even Sherlock had noticed. And this seemed to make him happy.

“Okay, John. Sight seeing has been done. Let’s go somewhere that’s not here, shall we?”

He looks at Sherlock, disappointment crossing his face. “Sherlock you don’t always have to make everything work.” He stopped and tapped Sherlock’s forehead with the brochure. “Sometimes you just need to learn to switch off.”

He brushed John’s hand away, scowling. “Every time you do something like that everybody looks at us like… we’re...” His face resumes its emotionless state, and he continues walking down the beach.

“Like we’re what? I though you never cared about what anybody thought.”

“Well maybe I lied. People do that, John. Lie. Haven’t you figured out I’m not perfect?” He regretted snapping at John like that almost immediately, the look on his face couldn’t have been worse if Sherlock had kicked him.

“So then all that stuff people say about you does bother you?”

“No, not that. That’s hardly worth wasting time thinking about.”

“Well than what does?” John stopped and put out an arm to stop Sherlock too. Some children passing by stopped and stared at them until their parents came and pulled them away, whispering about staying away from those types of people.

Letting out an overly-exaggerated sigh Sherlock turned to John. “It’s not what they say about me. It’s what people say about… us.” He hissed at John, and then he began briskly walking down the beach again. John quickly caught up to him, doing nothing to disguise the look of surprise on his face.

“You mean it really bothers you when people assume we’re gay? Why? It’s not true.”

“Shut up, John. Just for once, can you control what comes out of your mouth for a few minutes?” John stopped again, but Sherlock kept walking, his scarf and coat (both which he’d refused to remove) fluttering weakly in the warm breeze.

“What do you mean by that? Do you think I’ve said everything I’ve ever wanted to to you? Because if that’s what you think you’re mistaken, Sherlock.”

Sherlock whipped around, anger, hate and frustration mingling on his face. “I’m never mistaken John. I don’t think for one second you’ve spoken your mind, but you’ve made up for it with that ghastly thing you call small talk that you never seem to run out of.”

“Well then how about I give you a piece of my mind, hm?” They were walking past a colorful souvenir shop, and the shopkeeper and customers had stopped to watch what was now turning into a heated argument. “You’re self-centered, self-absorbed, obsessed with your work, you never take anyone else’s feelings into consideration, you’re horrible to everyone you spend time with, and…” He trailed off, his accusing finger still jabbing Sherlock in the chest.

“And?”

“And honestly, I wouldn’t have it any other way.” John coughed awkwardly and let his hand fall back to his side.

“And you what?” Shock penetrated his carefully orchestrated poker face, but not for long.

John let out a nervous laugh, lunging at the souvenir stand and grabbing a postcard, a cartoon-like scene of a beach, probably the very one they were standing on, with a colorful lounger, an umbrella and bold white text splashed haphazardly across the front, saying: **GREETINGS FROM SUNNY CALIFORNIA!** “And I think you really need one of these!” He tried to laugh again, but it sounded more like he was being strangled.

“Well.” Sherlock turned up his coat collar and glared at everyone who was staring at them. They all hurried on their way, buying and swimming and sun bathing. “If you insist, John.” He snatched the postcard from John, and started to walk away.

John let out a huge sigh, paid for the postcard and hurried after Sherlock. After walking in silence for a few minutes, Sherlock cleared his throat, acknowledging John was there, and then drew in a breath, as if deciding what to say. John was expecting a long speech about something or other, but it never came.

“So you’re not mad at me, John?”

“No.” John shrugged it off. “It’s hard to stay mad at you when you treat your mind like a giant iPad. Because, after all you can’t laugh at someone when you’re cross with them.”

“What?” John just smiled knowingly and walked off at a brisker pace. Sherlock lagged behind a little.

Maybe this ‘vacation’ wouldn’t be so bad after all.

**Author's Note:**

> I started writing this for a contest, which (as i figured out half way through) the dead line was last year. Like, in April 2011. And then it all went downhill from there... and, dear reader, I'm sure you can figure out where i stopped trying (:


End file.
